Unfinished Business
by jayer
Summary: August Anderson finds himself juggling a new woman in his life, a mystery from his past and trying to keep his cover intact while caught up in an FBI investigation.
1. Chapter 1

Auggie was somewhere around track 8 of 'report reviewing' when his phone chirped to life.

"Annie. On the ground?"

"Heading to the hand off."

"Excellent. How about a drink? I'm buying."

"I really shouldn't, but you know what. I'm in. I should be there in about an hour."

"I've got a better idea. I'll grab a cab and meet you there."

"It's not a big deal, Auggie."

"No but it is a good 20 minutes out of your way and by the time you pick me up and we drive to the Tavern Happy Hour could be over."

"I'm not worth a full price drink?"

"Oh Annie Walker, you are worth Top Shelf in my book. But Happy Hour is so much better for people watching. Or in my case, people listening."

"And since I've been gone since Wednesday on this 'business trip' I'll be rushing off for a family dinner and you don't want to spend drink number two alone."

"Something like that."

"Face it Auggie, you are a dog."

"But you still love me."

"Without a doubt." Annie laughed. "I see my contact. I'll see you at the Tavern."


	2. Chapter 2

Emily slipped the dress over her head and slipped on her heals.

"So, what's the plan for the night?"

"Drinks, dinner." Emily held up a lipstick. JJ shook her head. Emily grabbed a second one, getting a nod.

"And?"

"And that's all. Or at least all we have planned."

"All he said, but really, Matthew McPhee is single and male. We know how that profiles."

"And I'm single and female. Plus I haven't been on a date in four months. If he's thinking what we are thinking, and reasonably attractive, I might just be inclined to play along."

"Well lets hope he knows how to play the game well." JJ pulled a pair of polished chopsticks out of her bag. "I know just what to do with your hair." She gathered Emily's hair up in a quick twist, securing it with the sticks. "Wear the gold hoops."

Emily slipped on the earrings and stepped back for a last look. "Forgive me for sounding like a total dog but here's to bagging a surgeon. Even for one night."

"One good night. And you are totally forgiven, as long as you share all the details."

"Well not ALL of them." Emily laughed. She felt like she was 25 again. And a part of her had no problem with that. "Oh crap. I left my phone on my desk."

"I'll get it for you."

"You get out of here, get home to your men. I'll get it."

Emily walked down the hall, silently smiling at the male agents trying to not look at her, while looking at her.

"Well my oh my." Morgan whistled. "Emily Prentiss meet the little black dress. To what do we owe this honor."

"I have a date."

"Anyone we know?"

"No." Emily grabbed her phone. "And I'm going to be late."

"Well behave yourself." Morgan laughed.

"Whatever." Emily shook her head. "What?" She shot at Reid, who was half staring at her, gape mouthed.

"You look nice." He said blushing.

"Thank you, Dr Reid." She smiled, mad at herself for snipping at him. "See you on Monday."

And with that she sauntered out, certain she was being watched. And loving every second of it.


	3. Chapter 3

The Tavern was packed, moreso than usual even for Happy Hour. As Auggie made his way carefully through the crowd, several of the regulars called out to him.

"Hey Augman." A voice called out from the din.

"Patrick." The two exchanged the ritual handshake, half hug greeting of guy friends. "You're sitting at my table."

"Keeping it safe for ya, Augman. That's all." The bar back laughed. "Had a feeling you'd be showing up."

"A feeling?" Auggie laughed. He quickly folded up his cane and settled into a seat.

"Full disclosure?"

"Always."

"I saw the table clear out and figured I'd park here during my break on the hope you'd show up. Maybe with that hot blonde. Between the way she fills out her suits and watching you charm the co-eds, hell it's better than anything on television."

"Well I'm happy I keep you so entertained." Auggie grinned. "The blonde will be here shortly."

"Excellent. Gotta go clear some tables. You want a beer?"

"A gentleman always wait. At least for a few minutes.

"Later then."

Auggie sat, listening to the din. He loved his job but sometimes it could be so quiet it was annoying. He liked the hum of the crowd. It had an energy. An ebb and flow, a dull roar occasionally rising up in a few words. Little bubbles of personality like a grace note or a bit of improv in a tune. It wasn't quite Mingus but it was enjoyable.

Take for example, the woman walking past the table. He could tell from the clicking that she was wearing heels. More solid than a stiletto but not businessy. Kitten heels, like Annie tended to wear. His favorites, so a point in her favor. There wasn't a lot of clatter from jewelry. Another point. He always worried he'd snag something, especially an earring. So he liked women who kept it simple. There was a light breeze in the air, carrying the faint smell of perfume. It had a staleness to it, like she'd put in on in the morning and not touched it up before going on. Considering that his nose had sharpened to pick up where his eyes lacked, he found this pleased him greatly.

But best of all was her voice. It was smooth, an alto range. No noticeable accent, not that that matter one way or another. Auggie couldn't hear another set of steps so she must have been talking on a cell phone.

"He's not here yet." Meeting someone, a boyfriend or a date. It was too bad. Well there was no harm in looking, or rather listening. So long as he didn't touch.

"It's a nice place. Not pricey nice. Comfortable nice." Pause. "Yeah it would be a great spot for our next girl's night." Her voice disappeared into the crowd and out toward the street. Perhaps stepping out to see if the mystery He had arrived. Auggie rather hoped not. It was an awful thing to hope but he found himself strongly wishing her companion wouldn't show at all.

Auggie felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out and tapped the surface. The robotic voice told him it was Annie.

"Evening Annie"

"Hey Auggie. I'm stuck in a little traffic might be longer than I thought."

"No worries. I'm just enjoying the crowd."

"I bet. It's moving, just kind of slow. Maybe another twenty minutes."

"Sure."

"Tell you what, you buy drinks but I'm buying dinner."

"You don't have to."

"I'm in the mood for a burger anyway."

"It's a deal. You won't mind if I hit round one without you."

"Go for it."

"Okay, hang up and drive safe." Auggie hung up his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. He left his cane on the table to signal it as taken and started for the bar.

"Hey Auggie." Debra, the owners wife and sometime bartender, greeted him at the bar. "What can I get ya?"

"Whatever's good and on tap. Start me a tab would ya. I've got a friend on the way."

"Sure thing sugar." Auggie could hear the hissing from the tap and the liquid falling into the glass. A moment later, he felt the cool glass brushing his finger tips. "Thanks Deb."

He took a long drink from the glass, then turned to walk back to the table.


	4. Chapter 4

Emily sighed, looking at her watch. She had been late herself and no sign of the supposedly great Dr Matthew McPhee. She pulled out her phone. No voicemails.

She dialed the familiar number.

"Hey Em. What's wrong?"

"Hey JJ. So what's the rule on being late with no calls?"

"How late?"

"Thirty minutes."

"I think anything longer than 20 without an apologetic 'stuck in traffic' call is officially a standup."

"That's what I thought too."

"I'm sorry, Emily. He seemed so nice."

"Yeah."

"You wanna come over. I can call Penelope. We could put the boys in bed and pop something in the DVD."

"It's tempting. But I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt for the length of a glass of wine. Maybe he'll show up with an armful of roses and a tale of traffic woe."

"Wow, it has been too long. Just promise me if you go over one glass you'll call me, or a cab."

"I'm go for two before that's an issue, but I promise Mom"

"Good night, Emily."

Emily frowned as she put her phone away. She knew she should just go home but she'd gone to the trouble to get dressed up. She was going to enjoy at least a little of her night. And maybe she'd get lucky and find some cute guy to chat up for a little bit. The doctor was barely more than a stranger so what was the difference.

She made her way toward the bar, relishing the glances even if most of them were from men with dates or likely old enough to be legal but still.

"Hey beautiful." One of the barely past jail baits called out to her. "Looking hot."

"Thanks" Emily said with a laugh. "But I don't think so."

"Your loss." The kid turned back to his friends, totally unfazed.

Emily turned away, walking right into another patron, knocking his drink out of his hand. And him almost off his feet.


	5. Chapter 5

"Oh, crap." Emily hissed as she instinctively reached out to catch the man before he slipped. His drink, hit the floor with a crash.

"Hey Pat," the man called out over a shoulder, "Clean up, aisle 2" he said laughing.

"Are you okay?" Emily stuttered. "I'm so embarrassed."

"I'm fine." The man grinned at her. There was something, Emily couldn't put her finger on it, but something was off about him. "You must really hate your parents."

"Sorry?"

"Giving you a name like So Embarrassed." He stuck out a hand. "I'm August. Auggie to my friends. "

"Emily." She took his hand, relaxing a little. He seemed very nonplused about almost wearing his drink. "You have to let me buy you a drink."

"Not necessary."

"I insist."

"I'll make you a deal. You can buy this round but I get to buy the next."

"I'm not sure if I'll be staying for a next round."

"It doesn't have to be tonight." Auggie said with a widening grin. Emily felt herself getting a little warm. She hoped she wasn't blushing too much.

"Okay. Sure, it's a deal." Emily laughed. It occurred to her that this guy was a bit like putting Morgan's personality in Reid's body, and that wasn't a particularly bad thing.

"If you two are done flirting," A young man appeared with a broom and a bar towel. "Augman, you get hit?"

"Nope. I'm good." Auggie brushed off the towel being held out. "Patrick, Emily."

"Hey." Patrick's voice was dripping with his approval over her dress. Not to mention he said hello more to her chest than her face.

"Nice to meet you."

"Guess you need a refill." Patrick laughed.

"Please. Emily is buying this round." Auggie said with a wink. "Could you bring it to my table?"

"Sure. How about you, Miss Emily?"

"White Wine."

"You got it." Patrick gave her a slight leer, swept up the broken glass and disappeared.

"Can I ask you something?" Auggie stepped a little closer as someone brushed past, bumping into him.

"Sure."

"Are you the type to rip the bandaid off, or pull it a little at a time."

"Rip." Emily said, confused. "Why?"

"Nothing bad. I swear. Just a little something, barely worth mentioning if it wasn't for this crowd."

"Why would - "

"I'm blind."

Emily paused as the words sunk in. Suddenly the feeling she had made sense. She blushed to herself, embarrassed that she didn't figure it out from the eyes that seemed to look past her, the way the bar back put the towel right in front of Auggie's hand, his overly casual reaction to being bumped into.

"Oh that. I thought it was something serious. Like you have a girlfriend."

"No. Well she's a girl and a friend, but not a girlfriend. I just didn't want thinking I was stumbling cause I'm totally drunk."

"It is rather packed. Where's this table of yours?"

Auggie pointed into the crowd. "You can't miss it. I left my jacket and cane on the table."

Emily slipped his hand on her arm and led him into the small fray. "Is it always this busy?"

"Not really, but school's about to start so the kiddies must be getting in one more good night at."

"The age spread is about right."

Emily sidestepped to try to pull Auggie away from a small gang of rowdy college guys. She wasn't quite quick enough and one of the guys bumped into Auggie, tripping him.

"Dude, sorry." The kid barely looked down.

Emily helped Auggie to her feet. He had a pained look on his face.

"What is it?"

"My shoulder." Auggie hissed. "I smell blood."

Emily pulled him the last few steps to the table and sat him down. Auggie could feel her hands on his back. "Oh god, Auggie. You've been shot."


	6. Chapter 6

Auggie hissed from the pain. It felt like someone had plunged a hot poker into his shoulder.

"What was that guy's name?"

"Patrick." Auggie bit his lip trying to resist the very strong desire to vomit, pass out, or perhaps both. He'd never been shot before but the pain reminded him of his fateful trip to Iraq, a memory that also made him feel extremely ill.

He tried to focus on the sounds around him, to use them as a distraction. He was aware of Emily calling out for Patrick to bring a towel, and the feeling of someone pressing it against his shoulder. Only then did he realize that his back felt very wet. The bullet must have hit an artery or something.

"Stay with me, Augman." Patrick said softly.

Auggie nodded. From the midst of the fuzzy feelings in his head he could hear Emily's voice.

"Yes, FBI Special Agent Emily Prentiss. I'm at the site of a shooting. One victim. We need paramedics and I need police support to canvas the area. What's the address here?"

"10700 Houser" Patrick's voice drifted into the fog. "Auggie. You with me."

"Yeah. How bad is it?"

"Not that bad."

"Don't lie to a blind guy. It's tacky."

"Look, Augman. I don't really know. There's a lot of blood but I don't know if it's really a lot or just looks it. Just talk to me okay. Tell me about the hot blonde."

"Her name is Annie. We work together."

"She got a guy?"

"There's a guy at work she's gone out with, don't know if it's serious."

"So there's hope for me."

"Yeah, there's hope." Auggie cringed from the pain. He needed to keep his thinking clear. Needed to stay awake. He did it in Iraq, somehow. He kept his cool for almost 5 hours. In the desert. Blinded. Hurt. Alone. If he could do that, he could do this.

"Auggie." Emily's voice was right by his ear. "The paramedics are here. They're going to take care of you. I have to stay for a while but then I need to come talk to you, okay."

"Sure. I can't wait." Auggie said with a strained laugh.

"Hey Auggie. Get patched up. First round is on me next time." He felt Patrick's hands lift off his shoulder. "Take good care of my guy."

Auggie focused as the medic asked him about allergies, medications. A light breeze stirred and he realized he was shivering. He wasn't sure if it was the breeze or he was going into shock. He also cringed as he once again felt the very strong urge to be sick.

"Sir?" The medic had asked him a question and was clearly waiting for an answer.

"I'm sorry. What was the question?"

"Do you think you can stand?"

"Yeah." Auggie felt the medic's hand on his arm as he stood up. And then the world went black, figuratively speaking.


	7. Chapter 7

Emily started at the flurry of activity behind her. She turned to see the paramedics swiftly lifting Auggie onto the stretcher, putting in an IV, checking his vitals, like a twisted ballet.

"How is he"

"Good, not great." The senior medic replied over his shoulder as he reached to unlock the wheel brake. "We're heading to San Seb."

A suit, middle aged but fit, intercepted the medics.

"Cade."

"Jack."

"Tell the docs to take care with that bullet."

"Sure thing, Agent." The medic said with a knowing tone. "Let's roll."

The suit spotted Emily watching the medics.

"Agent Prentiss? I'm Agent Jack Parsons, DC Field Office."

"So how many is it?" Emily asked, her throat suddenly dry. Auggie being a random victim was bad enough, but if this was a serial case. Emily didn't want to think about it.

"This is number five in five weeks."

"When did the Bureau get the case?"

"After the 3rd victim. Shooter hit over state lines. Locals were happy to give it up. Didn't want the bad press."

"Who can blame them?"

They stood silent watching the CSIs taking photos, interviewing witnesses. Another strange dance.

The murmur was broken by the sound of a woman's voice, raised and slightly panicked.

"Please, my friend is here. I need to know if he's okay."

"I'm sorry, Miss. But this is a crime scene. No one can go in. You need to go back to the barricade."

"Look. I tried his cell but he's not answering. Can you just find out if he's okay. His name is Auggie. Auggie Anderson."

"Wait a second." Emily called out as she walked over to the young woman. "Can I get your name?"

"Annie. Annie Walker."

"Miss Walker. My name is Emily Prentiss. I'm an FBI Agent. You know Auggie?"

"Yeah. We work together."

"Where do you work?"

"The Smithsonian. Look can you please tell me what's going on?"

"There was an incident. I can't really say more right now."

"An incident? Where's Auggie?"

"He was hurt. The medics took him to Saint Sebastians."

"Oh God. I need to go." Annie paled slightly. "I need to call Joan."

"Joan?"

Annie started, as if she didn't realize she'd said the last part out loud. "Yeah, Joan. Auggie's Aunt."

"Agent Prentiss." Parson's called out, motioning for Emily to come look at something.

"Miss Walker. I have to go." Emily said calmly. "And you should go to the hospital to see about Auggie. And if you would call his aunt, I"m sure they would both appreciate it greatly."

"Okay, yeah." Annie nodded and walked away.

Emily watched her for a moment, certain she was the 'hot blonde' the bar back had been teasing Auggie about. Annie Walker was someone to be jealous of, if Auggie hadn't already admitted they were just friends.

"Agent Prentiss?"

Emily snapped back to the moment. "Sorry. Lost in the moment there."

"Everything okay?"

"Friend of the victim." Emily followed the other agent across the room, listening to his recap of how little information they were able to find.

"So any chance the BAU could help us out with this?" Parsons asked bluntly.

"Requests for assistance have to go through Agent Jareau, but give me the bullet points and I'll make sure she's convinced."


	8. Chapter 8

Annie paced the waiting room, fully aware that she was copying Auggie's practice of tracing circles around the walls with his hand. She was exhausted, frayed and pissed at the nurses who wouldn't tell her anything since she wasn't family. Danielle offered to come wait with her, understandable since she had a Mommy Crush on Auggie the Tour Guide. But Annie had a bad feeling things were about to get tricky. Especially since she accidentally blurted out Joan's name in front of the FBI agent. Then again, Joan had dropped everything to come to the hospital and the ruse of the patient's aunt got her an escort to Auggie's recovery room.

Annie paused at the sound of heels approaching. She knew without looking up that it was Joan. Auggie could tell the difference between the sound of a kitten heel and a stiletto, could pick up the scent of perfume and all that. Fortunately Annie didn't need any of that. Only Joan Campbell walked with that kind of "don't mess with me" confidence. A bull in a china shop would turn tale and run at the sound of Joan entering the room.

"Joan."

"He's going to be fine. The bullet didn't cause any irreparable damage."

Annie let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. "Good. Can I go see him?"

"Not tonight."

A voice interrupted them.

"Last name Anderson. He was brought in with a GSW to the shoulder." The brunette was asking the charge nurse.

"That's her." Annie said over her shoulder.

"I need you to call Jai. I want a full dossier on this agent and anyone she works closely with."

"You think she was the target and the gunman was a bad shot?"

"Perhaps. Mostly I need to sort out how much of a potential threat this is all going to be. And tell Jai we need a cover position for Auggie and I at the Smithsonian."

"You?"

"Yes. I'm your boss. My nephew, who works in IT, came to take me to lunch for my birthday and I introduced you to him. So on and so forth."

"I get the picture, I'm on it." Annie reached for her cell phone.

"Also, have Jai sent a two man detail here. And then go home and get some sleep."

"I'd rather"

"Go home. That's an order." Joan smoothed out her clothes. "But keep your phone on."

"Yes Ma'am." Annie walked away dialing.

Joan approached the desk. "Excuse me. Agent Prince?"

The woman turned. "Prentiss actually. Emily. You're Aunt Joan?"

"Joan Campbell."

Emily gestured to an empty sofa. "How is he?"

"Out of surgery. They said he lost a lot of blood. And the bullet chipped his clavicle. They said he wouldn't be able to use his arm for a bit. But they expect a full recovery. "

"Good. I'll need to speak to him as soon as possible."

"Forgive me if I seem out of line, but isn't this a police case?"

"It wasn't an isolated shooting. There have been 4 others. Two more in DC, one in Virginia and one in Maryland. Which makes it Federal." Emily looked up as a man and woman walked in. "Excuse me."

Joan watched as Emily spoke to the newcomers. She could tell from their demeanor that they were law enforcement, probably also FBI. This was going to be tricky. One of them mixed up, even tangentially, in a Federal investigation was not the best turn of events. But it was manageable, she just needed the intel to form a proper plan.

"Mrs Campbell." Joan stood as Emily approached with the other suits. "These are Agents Hauser and Colby. They're going to be covering security outside your nephew's room."

"Security?

"It's just a precaution. Until we know more about what is going on."

"Of course. Thank you, Agent Prentiss."

"I'm sure you'd rather be with your nephew. I'll be back in the morning. And tell Auggie that I still owe him that beer."

Joan watched the Agent leave before walking back to Auggie's room. The two suits took up posts outside the room. Fortunately for Joan Auggie was in the far bed and the beeps and wheezes from the various monitors would muffle any sounds. She gently tucked the sheets around Auggie, brushing his hair off his face, fully aware that she was being watched. Joan pulled a chair up to the bed and sat, sliding her hand under Auggie's. She waited until she heard her observer step away and quickly pulled out her phone.

"Jai." He answered on the first ring.

"Where are we?"

"Cover has placed the appropriate records for you and Auggie as requested."

"Good."

"Your detail is in place."

"And the Feds."

"Contacts say the DC field office has 4, now 5, shootings in 5 weeks. All at public places. All on Friday nights. All males, early 30s, tall, slender, brown hair. Basically Auggie clones."

"So they will be pushing this hard."

"Very. The other four were fatal. Dead on site."

"And this Agent Prentiss. What do we have on her?"

"Quite a bit. On her and her unit. Do you want the summary or the full book?"

Joan pulled a notepad out of her bag. "Full book, start with Prentiss."


	9. Chapter 9

"Good Morning."

Hotch entered the conference room, coffee in hand. It was filled with a quiet buzz of activity. Rossi was shuffling through a stack of crime scene photos. Morgan was flipping through more images on the ipad that had quickly become attached to his hip. Reid was working on a rather complex computation on one of the white boards, referencing pages from a stack of files. JJ was laying out more files, photos and such. Garcia was at her laptop, furiously clicking together the briefing slide show.

Before anyone else could speak, Emily walked in with another agent in tow.

"Agent Hotchner." The man extended a hand. "Jack Parsons. Thank you for agreeing to this. Especially on a weekend."

Hotch nodded. He would much rather be at home watching cartoons and making pancakes with Jack, but killers didn't care about such things. Why make Parsons feel bad about it.

"You know Agent Prentiss already. These are Agents Morgan, Rossi, Jareau and Dr Reid. Agent Garcia is our Chief Analyst."

"I prefer Goddess of All Things Discoverable." Garcia quipped.

"You help me discover who is doing this and I'll call you whatever you want." Parsons shot back. The tension in the room noticeably dropped.

He turned to Hotch. "What do you need from me?"

Hotch motioned the man to a seat. "We have the case files from your office to review in detail but a summary version would be very useful."

"Not much really to go on. This is the fifth shooting in five weeks. All on Friday nights. All male victims. 30 years of age give or take. All shot. All in crowded public places."

"Ballistics?" Morgan jumped in.

"High powered rifle. Military grade. No fingerprints. No casings left behind."

Rossi flipped a page over in notebook. "All 5 were shot from a slightly upward angle?"

"Yes." Parsons nodded. "We searched the areas were he was most likely positioned. No trace evidence. Footprints were boots, also military grade. But you can buy those at any army surplus."

"He's careful not to leave any clues." Emily spoke up. "Shoes were common place. He probably is also. Blended in with the crowds, nothing remarkable about his appearance. Find a place where he could have his slight line and then blend back in long enough to slip away in the chaos."

"And he's a good shot." Reid shuffled some pages. "Four perfect killing shots in an unpredictable crowd. That's not something you can do without practice and calm. He's definitely comfortable with at least the rifle and chaotic circumstances."

"You're thinking a cop?"

"Police special unit like SWAT is possible. Military is another option." Reid nodded. "Some kind of special forces could explain both the precision and removing his casing."

"Or he could have been preparing for this for a while. Practiced months with the weapon." Morgan countered. "Plus these days you can watch primetime TV and figure out enough to know to wear gloves, non specific clothes, drive a typical looking car. Even crossing state lines to screw with jurisdictions."

"So we have nothing?" Parsons sighed. He nodded as JJ set a cup of coffee down in front of him.

"The implication of careful planning and the steady time table suggests that he's an organized killer." Hotch explained. "He has some kind of method or goal and he's careful in pursuing it. The venues, the crowds suggest strong anti social tendencies."

"So we are dealing with a guy who is smart and psycho? Great."

"In a way it is." Morgan added. "Anti social personalities tend to be noticeable. If we can narrow down the list of suspects we can interview people who may recognize the unsub once we ask them about particular traits and attitudes."

"But that list is every cop, federal agent, military member or gun fanatic in the DC area. That has to be hundreds, even thousands."

"Garcia, start with SWAT and similar groups. Look for anyone with money issues-"

"Divorce, death in the family, recent censure. Potential stressors." Garcia nodded. "I'll also sort the list of registered gun owners in the area to those with rifle purchases, logged a lot of practice time in recent months, criminal records, stressors."

"Check for range or gun shop break ins within the last several months." Reid added. "It's possible that the unsub is avoiding a record of his purchase by using a stolen weapon."

"Add military or police break ins." Emily suggested. "Transit deliveries that could have been hijacked. Or any recent cases involving weapons seizures. If the unsub is law enforcement perhaps the weapon was conveniently left out of or removed from evidence."

"On it, my turtle doves." Garcia scooped up her laptop and hurried off to her office.

"Reid, Geographic profile?"

Reid shook his head. "Too diverse."

"Okay then we're left with victimology." Hotch nodded at the photos Garcia had put up on the display before leaving. "Thoughts?"

Reid spoke up first. "At first glance, they're all the same type. Tall. Ectomorphic. Classic Beta Male form. Unassuming, unthreatening."

"Innocent." Parsons blushed as the room went silent. "No offense Ag- Dr Reid but when I first saw you I was thinking what the hell is such a sweet looking kid doing in such a messed up job. You're just like them. Same body, same hair, skin. Hell the victims and you all have the same color eyes. This killer could have walked right past them, looked them in the eye before he turned and shot them in the back."

"No offense taken. Thankfully I don't really have time for a life and I'm mildly claustrophobic so even when I have time I avoid crowds. And it is an astute observation. There is a innocence about them. That could be an important detail."

Rossi chimed in. "He could be like them. Perhaps he does walk right past them, makes eye contact even. He wouldn't be seen as threatening because of the similar type. It could also explain why he shoots them in the back, he can't face them when he kills them because he is like them and is conflicted over the notion of a natural victim targeting other victims."

"It's also possible that these are surrogates. Perhaps he was the victim of that kind of attack. Someone that should have been a friend, an ally turned on him. Perhaps someone that fits exactly this appearance. Which is why he is targeting men of this age and appearance, rather than it simply being due to the commonality of the appearance."

"What if that's too vague?" Emily interjected. "Last night at the bar there had to be at least ten guys with similar looks, body type, height as Auggie. Even the guy that works there, Patrick, he looked like he could be Auggie's brother. So why Auggie and not the bar back. I bet if we looked at the other four scenes we could ask the same thing. Why this guy and not that one?"

"You think there's a connection?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Maybe they went to the same school. Maybe they shop at the same grocery store or go to the same gym. Maybe our unsub picked a particular group of young men, stalked them, figured out their movements."

"Planned the work." Morgan nodded, using an old mantra from years past. "Now he's working the plan. Ticking off his list one by one."

"I'll have Garcia pull school records, financials, whatever she can find." JJ volunteered. "See if there's a commonality. Even a thin one."

"Good." Hotch nodded. "There's also Mr Anderson. He may not have seen anything but perhaps someone spoke to him, or something odd happened recently that could be connected. Morgan, you and Prentiss see what he can tell us."

"Actually Hotch," Emily said cautiously. "I think it might be better if Reid goes. He's less threatening and I'm guessing he spent the morning reading up on sensory coping methods among the visually impaired so he'll know the right questions to ask in a cognitive interview. "

"I might have googled a paper or two." Reid blushed. "We've never interviewed a blind witness. It's a fascinating prospect."

Morgan tried to hide his grin. "I'd rather go to The Tavern. Talk to the staff, put some fresh eyes on the scene."

"I'll go with Morgan." Rossi volunteered. "We can pay the other scenes a visit. That is if Agent Parsons doesn't mind giving us the tour."

"Or course." The field agent seemed relieved to finally have something in his grasp to do.

"JJ and I start with the witness statements from the other shootings." Hotch reached for a file as the others slipped on jackets, grabbed notebooks and such.

Emily turned to Parsons. "Don't worry, we'll catch this guy."

"Before he kills anyone else?"

"That's the plan. And not to brag, we are pretty good at our job." Morgan said confidently.

"Plan the work, work the plan?" Parsons quipped. "You said that about the killer also."

"Understanding how the unsub thinks is key to finding him or her." Reid grabbed his bag, slipping the strap over his shoulder. "Sometimes that means thinking like they do."

"That is both comforting and disconcerting."

Rossi sighed. "Yes Agent Parsons it is."


	10. Chapter 10

"A blind software tech at a major museum, that won't be hard to remember." Auggie winced. "Then again, I can just play the whole drugged out on painkillers game."

"Joan, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Auggie has been identified by an FBI agent as being at the scene, Jai." Joan said with a very 'don't argue' tone. "And while it is not our jurisdiction I am not fond of the idea of standing by while some sociopath is killing innocents in our backyard."

"So Auggie plays the sweet good guy in a bland boring job who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and wants to do his part to catch the bad guy." Jai sighed.

Joan's phone rang. "Yes." There was a pause as she listened. "Thank you. Stay at your posts and notify me immediately if any one else suspect approaches.

"Okay. Our Agent Prentiss has arrived in the company of another agent." Joan turned the photo, which was displaying an image of the agent to Jai. "Intel?"

Jai tapped the screen on the tablet in his hand. "That is most likely Doctor Spencer William Reid. Age 29. PhDs in Advanced Applied Mathematics, Physics and Engineering. Interesting."

"What?" Auggie quipped.

"Dr Reid is a child prodigy. Genius IQ, advanced eidetic memory and photographic memory. Accepted to the FBI at the age of 21, which for those that don't know their federal agencies is two years before their standard policy. Especially for those with zero law enforcement experience."

"Is he a potential threat?"

"Not that I can see. His place in the agency is advanced but his record isn't particularly remarkable. Looking at the photos the only thing of note is that he resembles the victims." Jai tapped the screen again. "Actually he apparently received several exemptions for the Academy's physical tests. Auggie could take him with one hand behind his back."

"I think the sling has that covered." Auggie smirked.

"This could be useful." Joan grinned slightly. "They likely sent this Agent Reid to try to built a rapport with Auggie. We can turn it around and do the same thing on them."

"I think I can work that." Auggie nodded.

Annie leaned towards the partly closed door. "Sounds like they are at the nurses station."

"Then it's show time."

Annie and Jai nodded. They could hear footsteps approaching.

The woman, Agent Prentiss, called from the doorway. "Are we interrupting?"

"Agent Prentiss, not at all." Joan waved them in. "I believe you met my assistant Annie last night. And this is my nephew's friend Jai."

"We came by to check on Auggie." Annie said sweetly.

"And now we will be going." Jai added. "Try not to enjoy those sponge baths too much." Jai laughed.

"I'll try." Auggie shot back.

Annie stepped up and planted a light kiss on Auggie's forehead. "Just get better and back to work."

Agent Prentiss stopped them at the door. "Do you have a moment? I have some questions you might be able to help with."

Annie and Jai looked at each other. "Sure, anything to help the FBI." Annie replied.

"We'll be in the waiting room." Jai nodded.

"You look pretty good for a guy that got shot." Agent Prentiss approached the bed.

"Well it takes a lot to ruin this much handsome." Auggie laughed. "But I have to admit that I'm a little crushed. You come to see me and you bring a date."

"How did you?" The young man interjected.

"I always had really good ears." Auggie said grinning. "After my accident, I guess they went supernova to help me cope. I could hear two sets of footsteps. And something, maybe a laptop, was thumping in the bag you're carrying."

"It's a book actually."

"There was something a little off though." Auggie admitted. "You're wearing sneakers aren't you? I'm going to guess Chucks. Running shoes wouldn't go with the semi business standards of a Federal job."

"Good guess."

"My apologies." Agent Prentiss jumped in. "This is my team member Dr Reid."

"Doctor?"

"PhDs, not MD."

"Multiple degrees, you don't sound old enough." Joan said, with a very convincing amount of surprise. "Joan Campbell. If you ever want a new career path give me a call. I'm sure I can find something for you."

"Just what my aunt needs, another kid to mother." Auggie snickered.

"You might be too big to spank but I can and will still ground you."

The agents exchanged a look.

"Remind you of anyone?" Dr Reid half whispered to his partner.

"Definitely."

"So I'm guessing you came on business. We better get to it before the pain meeds need a booster."

Agent Prentiss nodded. "We need to talk to you about last night. What you remember."

"I really don't remember much. And I didn't exactly see anything."

"That's actually why I asked Dr Reid to come. If it's okay I'd like for him to do what we call a cognitive interview."

"A cognitive what?"

"Interview." Dr Reid spoke up. "I want to take you back to last night step by step. Go through each of the events. What you might have heard or felt, maybe even smelled."

"You think that could help?"

"Perhaps. Truth is we don't have a lot to go on."

"What about the other victims? They must have seen something."

"They didn't survive."

"Oh." Auggie gasped. "Okay. Let's do it. But could my aunt stay. Is that okay?"

"Of course." Dr Reid agreed.

"I'll be outside talking to the others." Agent Prentiss nodded and walked out.

Dr Reid put his bag and jacket on a chair. "I need you to relax as much as you can.

Go back to yesterday. Did you work?"

"Yes."

"Was there anything unusual?"

"No. I was working on code for an exhibit. That's part of what I do. I debug the software for the playback systems."

"You were in your office all day."

"I ate lunch with my aunt in the museum cafeteria."

"When was that?"

"Noon. Well a more like quarter after. My aunt was in a meeting that ran late."

"Did anyone that you didn't recognize speak to you? Did anyone bump into you? Or anything else that seemed odd or off. "

"No, it was pretty boring."

"After lunch you went back to your office?"

"Yes."

"Let's go to the end of the day. You had plans to meet your friends at the bar?"

"Annie was on her way back from a trip overseas. She called me when her plane landed."

"When was that?"

"Maybe ten to five. We made our plans then."

"You were going to meet her there?"

"Yeah."

"Your friend Jai wasn't going you?"

"No, he was having dinner with his father."

"How did you get to the bar. Bus, Cab?"

"Bus, there's a stop a block over."

"Do you remember anything unusual about the ride?"

"No. It was pretty quiet actually. Plenty of seats. Traffic seemed pretty light. I'm not really the best judge."

"You got off the bus and walked to the bar. Can you tell me what you can hear?"

"Cars, people walking, laughing. Music coming from the bar."

"Is there a breeze?"

"Yes. its soft."

"What can you smell?"

"Cars. Oil, gasoline exhaust. Ribs on the open grill in the bar. People. Sweat, perfume."

"Take me into the bar."

"I walk into the patio. It feels like people are everywhere. My cane hits someone almost every step."

"Does anyone say anything to you when you hit them?"

"I hear someone start to, but he stops all of a sudden. Apologizes. People do that when they see the cane. A couple of the regulars say hello.

"I smell cigarettes from a couple of tables. I reach the one that Annie, Jai and I usually sit at. Patrick is there."

"Patrick?"

"He is a bar back. Nice kid. Grad student. Smells like cigarettes and cheap dishwashing soap."

"He's the one with the crush on your friend Annie."

"Yeah, Patrick thinks Annie is hot. He's always trying to get me to hook them up."

"So you have a seat, and Patrick?"

"He goes back to work."

"Can you feel the breeze?"

"Yes. They have those heat lamp things but they aren't on. Don't need them with the crowd."

"What about smells? Anything other than people and food."

Auggie paused, thinking. "No. yes. I can smell a new perfume. Faint. Chanel."

"Can you tell where it is coming from?"

"A woman, walking by the table. She's alone. One set of footsteps. She's coming from the inside bar. Talking on her phone. I don't usually listen to private conversations but Emily has such a nice voice."

"I never noticed. I suppose she does."

"Try closing your eyes, just listen sometime. It's like music."

Joan tried not to laugh as the young agent blushed. Listening to someone praising the attractiveness of his co-worker was clearly not what he was expecting when he came to work.

"Emily - Agent Prentiss was talking about meeting someone. A date. I could hear her walking toward the street. Then my phone rang."

Auggie flinched. "Sorry my shoulder is starting to burn."

"Skip to when you and Emily bumped into each other. Try to listen around you. Feel the breeze. Walk back to the table."

Auggie took a deep breath. He felt his stomach churned, the taste of bile in this throat. There was something.

"I can feel the breeze on the back of my neck as we walk but there's people everywhere. Just food and people, laughing, music." Auggie flinched again. It was there again. Ticking his mind. He remembered after the shot, the feeling that he was going to be sick. It wasn't the pain. It was more. It was something from his past. And then it clicked. It was a smell he had endured dozens of times. A smell that always grossed him out, make his stomach flip. It was a smell he had forgotten in the last two years.

"Auggie, sweetheart what is it?" His sweet loving aunt chimed in.

"What?"

"You look pale sweetheart. Are you all right?"

"No. I"m sorry but my shoulder is really starting to hurt."

"I think I have enough." Reid retrieved his belongings. "Thank you."

"Sure." Auggie nodded.

Joan watched as the young agent left the room. "Okay Auggie. What is it?"


	11. Chapter 11

Emily left Reid to the interview. She found the pair of friends sitting in the waiting room.

"Miss Walker, Mr -?"

"Wilcox. But there's no need to be formal." The man said, Annie nodding her agreement.

"All right then." Emily smiled. "Why don't we get some air? Perhaps a couple of coffee."

Emily led them to an outdoor patio where there was a coffee cart, remembering it from Reid's brush with Anthrax. The prices were a tad steep but the coffee was much much better.

They settled at a corner table with their drinks, each taking a long sip.

"So," Jai jumped in. "How can we help you?"

"Well I need to know more about Auggie."

"Why?" Annie asked. "Do you think this was personal?"

"Possibly. We can't rule it out yet. And if it wasn't personal, in a traditional sense"

"Traditional sense?" Jai asked. "You mean as in someone who knows him. Like a friend or a co-worker."

"Exactly. Is there anyone that might have a reason to want to hurt him."

"No." Annie quickly answered. "Auggie's a total doll. Everyone loves him."

"Has he recently been promoted? Perhaps someone was angered by it. Thought he didn't deserve it."

Annie shook her head. "No. No promotions. And people beg for Auggie to work on their exhibits. The museum is extremely devoted to accessibility and if an exhibit can pass the Auggie test"

"I get the idea." Emily nodded. "What about ex girlfriends, neighbors."

"No." Jai shook his head. "At least no one that has stood out."

"No one at the Tavern?"

"No."

"Is there anywhere else Auggie goes often?"

"We go work out at this gym near his place on the weekends but I can't remember any trouble there."

"Auggie mentioned before his accident. What exactly happened?"

"It was a car accident." Jai said. "Auggie and I had met up for lunch at this place in between our offices"

"You don't work for the museum?"

"No, I work at the State Department. Customs Division. You know pushing paper for museum shipments, diplomats personal belongings when they are transferred. That kind of stuff."

"So you met for lunch?"

"Yeah. I offered Auggie a ride back but he actually likes taking the bus. So we split up at the restaurant. He told me later that he didn't see what happened. Just that he was a couple of blocks down when he heard squealing and a bang. He ran around the corner and a car had been hit and slammed into a traffic post. He said he could smell oil and gasoline and something burning.

"There was a woman trying to get out of the car. Auggie told me that he was scared the car might blow up so he went to help her. He was pulling her out when it did blow up. Right in front of him. The doctors figured that the heat must have damaged his retina nerves. It's been total darkness since that day."

Emily sat silent for a moment, imaging Auggie racing to help.

"Agent Prentiss?" Annie interrupted her thoughts.

"What about his family, or even yourselves. Is there anyone that could be angry with either of you and might choose to go after a friend rather than directly?"

"No one comes to mind." Jai answered.

"I can't think of anyone either." Annie said.

Emily looked up to see Reid walk out to the patio. "Okay, I guess that's all I've got." She pulled out a pair of business cards. "If either of you think of anything, no matter how small it might seem, please call me."

They both nodded. Emily got up and joined Reid. "How did it go?" She asked as they walked back to the car.

"Not so great."

Emily grinned as she heard Reid's stomach grumbling. "It has to be close to lunch. Why don't we grab some sandwiches on the way back."

"I could eat."


	12. Chapter 12

"Auggie are you sure about this?"

"Very Joan. I spent 8 months working with that jack ass. Every day with him reeking of Brut, Cloves and mints. Every time he walked up I thought I would vomit."

"But Auggie, Max Keegan died that day. The whole team did. Other than you."

"How do they know he was there? How did they identify the bodies?"

"Dental records."

"From out of the Agency files." Auggie finished the thought. "Joan, Keegan always bragged about being hot shit with everything. Maybe all his talk wasn't just talk."

"You actually think he got into the system and replaced his dental records"

"With some dead body he could put at the site. Yeah, Joan I do. Or got someone to help him get in." Auggie was insistent. "It always seemed a bit off that we saw anything. Putting the bomb under the sand so we'd drive right over it would have worked a lot better. But he would have needed us to stop so he wouldn't be blown up also."

"Auggie, this just seems too outlandish. Even if I could believe that Max Keegan faked his own death, why would he try to kill you."

"I don't know."

"Joan." Jai interjected gently. "Perhaps we should at least look into the idea. Starting with securing Auggie properly, once the hospital releases him."

"Yes, You're right Jai. Better to be cautious. I want a second team here at the hospital. And lets have a team sweep Auggie's apartment and keep an eye on it. Last thing we need is to clear this and have him blown up when he goes home."

"Of course." Jai nodded. "I'm make the arrangements myself."

"Hey Jai, be sure to tell them"

"To remember that they are screwing around in a blind guy's apartment and to put everything back where it was. Especially the furniture."

"Thanks Jai."

"Annie. I need you with me at the office. We need to pull every shred of intel on Keegan and this operation. Go over it with a fine tooth comb."

"Of course."

"And I'll just hang out here on my ass doing nothing." Auggie said with a smirk. "That'll be fun."

"You are going to behave and be the nice innocent guy. Take a nap, listen to some tv. Get a sponge bath if you like. Your dear sweet aunt will come back and visit as soon as she has some juicy gossip to tell you." Joan's voice was anything but dear or sweet. Although she wasn't sure she believed that Keegan could be alive or the shooter, she wasn't happy with the thought and it had put her into the Bitch Joan mode that had made her rather feared around the office.

"Yes Ma'am." was Auggie's humorless reply. He knew better than anyone else not to mess with The Boss.


	13. Chapter 13

"Are you going to finish those?" Reid nodded at the half eaten bag of potato chips.

"Hungry much?"

"I missed breakfast."

"Line too long at the donut shop?"

"Yeah."

Morgan slid the bag over. "Help yourself."

"Anything?" Hotch said, walking back into the room.

They all shook their heads.

"I might have something." Garcia spoke up from behind her laptop. "I'm not sure."

"Not sure?" Rossi asked. It was rare for Garcia to be unsure of anything. She was the one member of the team who dealt in facts. The rest of them were the ones trying to find meaning in what she uncovered.

"It could be nothing, just me trying to find things that aren't there."

"Or it could be something." Morgan smiled. "We've got nothing else going to throw it out."

"Okay, I pulled everything I could find about our victims. School records, criminal records, credit histories. Nothing. No common details. So I decided to try going social. See if they were on Twitter, Facebook. Maybe they had a common follower, followed the same person. Even just maybe some cookie crumbs that might make a path to connect them. But that was total nada.

"However, I did notice that victim number two, Lucas McKinley, had a ton of photos from overseas on his profile. All over Europe. Makes sense with him being a journalism and photography student.

"So that made me think about that whole Exorcism case a couple of years ago. The victims were all connected to the crazy priest by where they traveled."

"So you thought maybe they were all in the same place"

"Yep. So I went back into their financial records looking for plane tickets, hotels. AND their passport records. Not easy since every country has a different database system. But I was able to determine that all five men have, or rather had, passports and went overseas at least once. When I was looking at the dates, that's when I noticed something that seemed a bit weird."

Garcia paused, one part dramatic effect, ten parts hesitation. Particularly about looking Prentiss in the eye.

"And?" Morgan prompted her.

"Two years ago, August Anderson took a trip to England."

"What's so weird about that? Blind people can travel. And he works for a museum. Maybe he was on a business trip, helping some museum set up a blind friendly exhibit."

"That's what I would have thought also. But the passport records show him entering England and then returning to the US from Greece four months later. Pretty long trip. Especially for there being zero activity on his credit cards."

"Maybe he was using a museum account. If it was a business trip that might be how they handle meals and such." Reid suggested.

"I considered that."

"But you found something else?"

Garcia nodded. "I found a withdrawal from his personal checking account three months before this trip for a payment to the Maryland DMV. I checked. It was a license renewal, not an ID card."

"Why would a guy who lost his sight the year before be renewing his license?" Rossi asked the obvious question out loud.

"Exactly."

"So he lied about the accident."

"That's might not be the only thing. I think he's lying about where he works."

"Why do you say that?"

"I looked into his tax records and they all show him working at the Smithsonian Museum, but when I cross referenced the Employer ID I found only three people with that number. August Anderson, Katherine Walker and Joan Campbell.

"I have no idea what it means."

"I do." Emily spoke up. "It means that Reid and I need to go back and talk to Auggie again. And I think that Hotch should go with us."


	14. Chapter 14

"The arrangements have all been made." Jai had changed into a pair of jeans and a henley shirt. It was not his usual garb, he actually liked wearing a suit. But it did fit the typical guy routine. Especially a guy that had come to keep his sick buddy company for a little while. The nurses certainly didn't seem to mind.

"Anything turn up with Keegan?" Auggie asked.

"Nothing. If this guy was up to something he was very careful about it. Very clean. Accounts under a false name. And a fresh one at that. Whole set of papers probably. Not a whisper about what he was up to. The records just show a very smart, very dedicated military guy who avoided bar fights and was quick to jump into anything if asked. Even a potential suicide mission."

"What about the body he used? Or how he got into the system."

"Nothing there either. He likely had help but who is anyone's guess. We're still tracking down possibles."

"Probably tricked someone into dropping in a back door so he could get access without raising any alarms. If he knew he only needed it one time, it might have even self destructed after he was done with it. Erase all traces he was ever there."

"You can do that?"

"Sure, if you know the system."

"So you think Keegan was a double player of some kind. Found a patsy to die for him, switched his dentals and then arranged to dump the body at the accident site."

"Sure, he had to get out of there somehow. Maybe his partner drove out and stayed out of site until the bomb went off then got killed for his help."

"Hell, maybe he set off the bomb."

"Maybe."

"You know what this all sounds like?" Jai said solemnly.

"Yeah, the thought crossed my mind." Auggie suddenly perked up. "Chanel and Chucks." He grinned. "Forgive me if I seem a little too happy given the situation but I'm on some really really good drugs."

"Auggie." Emily's voice sounded serious. Very serious.

"Emily. Am I mistaken or is there someone else with you?"

"Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner." A deep, older voice spoke from the doorway. "I'm the Unit Chief for the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

The agent's formal tone and language did not escape Auggie's notice.

"To what do I owe this visit Agent Hotchner?"

"I just wanted to ask why the two of you lied to my agents."

"Lied?" Jai said guardedly.

"Yes, Mr Wilcox. You told my agent that Mr Anderson was blinded in a car accident three years ago. But I have evidence that it was actually closer to two years ago. And I have reason to suspect not in the US.

And you both lied to my agents about where the two of you, Miss Walker and Miss Campbell work."

"And where, if you think we are lying, do you think we work?"

"The CIA."

There was a long pause.

"Jai, you better call Joan."


	15. Chapter 15

The bullpen fell silent as JJ re-entered with the three CIA visitors in tow. She led the party directly to the team's conference room. Morgan, Reid and Prentiss were already waiting along with Agent Parsons.

"Thank you for coming." Emily greeted the three of them. "Can I get anyone a water, cup of coffee?"

"Trying to put us at ease, Agent Prentiss?" Joan Campbell.

"Trying not to be rude." Emily countered.

"Your mother would be proud. And no thank you."

"Good move, the coffee was brewed about 2 hours ago and tastes like it." Morgan laughed. "Derek Morgan." He held out his hand to Campbell, nodding to the other two. "And this is Agent Parsons from our DC field office."

"Ma'am." Parsons nodded at them.

"Let's get started." Hotch and Rossi entered, Garcia and JJ right behind.

Morgan held out a chair for Joan like a perfect gentleman before taking a seat between her and the other CIA agents. It was a move that was neither missed nor commented on. Campbell seemed more intrigued than anything else.

"We'll go first." Hotch said firmly. This was their case and he was mildly posturing, like insisting they hold their meeting at the BAU offices. If they hadn't, Campbell would have. It was just the way the game was played.

"Of course," Joan replied. "it is after all YOUR case. We're just here to help."

Hotch ignored the subtext and nodded to Parsons. "Agent Parsons."

Parsons nervously cleared his throat. It wasn't his first case briefing but clearly being in a room with three CIA agents, one a division head, wasn't something that happened every day and it unnerved him.

"We have had 5 shootings in the last 5 weeks. All victims were male, approximately 30 years of age. All roughly 6 feet tall, lean build. Brown hair and eyes." Parsons began. He looked over his shoulder to see that Garcia had put the photos up on the widescreen monitor. "The first 4 shootings were fatalities. Dead shots. Victim number 5, Mr Anderson, would likely have also been a fatal shot if not for the unexpected interference."

"Never thought I'd be happy to have frat boys at a bar." Annie said not so under her breath.

"The shootings were all on Friday nights, during high traffic times at popular hangout areas. And after the first two shootings, the killings moved jurisdictional lines."

"Which brought the FBI into the case."

"Yes Ma'am." Parsons nodded. "We know from the ME reports that the original shootings were all from a location slightly above the victim creating a downward angle. The bullets indicate a military grade weapon. Our forensic analysts back played the trajectories to give us a region of locations where the shooter could have been but no fingerprints or shell casings were found. There were common footprints from a standard issue boot found at any surplus or hunting supply shop. No unique markers in the trend so we can't isolate a brand to narrow the search. The analysts were able to estimate that the shooter is definitely male, also approximately 6 feet tall with a slightly heavy build."

"And this tells us what?" Joan's voice was terse.

"We know" Hotch replied. "from the change in area, the removal of the casings and the apparent use of some kind of gloves that the killer knows about countermeasures. Either from law enforcement experience or simply from doing research. That he might have googled basic forensic techniques tells us that he's reasonably smart."

"He clearly has a particular victim type, which may represent an actual person from his past." Rossi added.

"Revenge by proxy?" Jai asked.

"In a manner of speaking." Reid nodded at him. "He might not have access to his desired target so he's attacking proxies. It's also possible that he doesn't yet feel confident in his ritual so he's practicing. And the best practice comes as close to the real thing as one can get."

"But he's shooting people in crowds." Annie said. "And not scattershot. He's picking someone and taking a kill shot. Wouldn't that take confidence."

"And skill." Emily added. "He is clearly someone with training. Either from devoted practice or some form of job training such as law enforcement or military."

"I've been going through records of gun shops, local law enforcement, and so on. Looking for anyone that could have access to the types of weapons and training. So far the list is too large to give us anything useful." Garcia said. "Even with the basic profile."

"This killer is detailed and methodical." Morgan said. "It's unlikely that the choice of locations, times or victim type is an accident. Even if it isn't one particular person hess after. With this type of person, it would not be uncommon for him to be so obsessed with his task that he will try to finish it."

"Finish it? You mean go after Auggie." Annie paled.

"Yes. Either at the hospital or afterwards when he returns home." Hotch nodded. "So he'll have to be placed in protective custody."

"With luck, not being able to finish this last shooting will throw him off his game and he'll screw up. Give us something to narrow our search."

"What if?" Joan began carefully. "What if you knew who the killer was. Or at least might be."

"If we had a name we could then analyze the particular person to determine the end game. And stop it." Hotch replied, equally careful. He suspected from the moment that Joan Campbell agreed to come to the BAU that she had information she wasn't giving up. Confronting her wouldn't work so it would have to be a careful game. And he was perhaps about to put her in check.

"You have a name?" Parson asked from the corner he had retreated to.

"We believe so." Joan nodded. "And if this name is correct then Auggie was the target all along."

"Which suggests, that this unsub killed 4 innocent people to avoid detection and possibly would have killed others after this to the same end. Smart and extremely sociopathic."

"Yes Dr Reid it is. Worse is that we may have trained this killer to do just this and never had a clue even with our evaluations and tests."

"Sociopaths are very good at hiding. Psychological chameleons of a sort. Also typically they are excellent natural profilers, which helps them to know just what face to present."

"Including it seems a dead face."


	16. Chapter 16

The bullpen fell silent as JJ re-entered with the three CIA visitors in tow. She led the party directly to the team's conference room. Morgan, Reid and Prentiss were already waiting along with Agent Parsons.

"Thank you for coming." Emily greeted the three of them. "Can I get anyone a water, cup of coffee?"

"Trying to put us at ease, Agent Prentiss?" Joan Campbell.

"Trying not to be rude." Emily countered.

"Your mother would be proud. And no thank you."

"Good move, the coffee was brewed about 2 hours ago and tastes like it." Morgan laughed. "Derek Morgan." He held out his hand to Campbell, nodding to the other two. "And this is Agent Parsons from our DC field office."

"Ma'am." Parsons nodded at them.

"Let's get started." Hotch and Rossi entered, Garcia and JJ right behind.

Morgan held out a chair for Joan like a perfect gentleman before taking a seat between her and the other CIA agents. It was a move that was neither missed nor commented on. Campbell seemed more intrigued than anything else.

"We'll go first." Hotch said firmly. This was their case and he was mildly posturing, like insisting they hold their meeting at the BAU offices. If they hadn't, Campbell would have. It was just the way the game was played.

"Of course," Joan replied. "it is after all YOUR case. We're just here to help."

Hotch ignored the subtext and nodded to Parsons. "Agent Parsons."

Parsons nervously cleared his throat. It wasn't his first case briefing but clearly being in a room with three CIA agents, one a division head, wasn't something that happened every day and it unnerved him.

"We have had 5 shootings in the last 5 weeks. All victims were male, approximately 30 years of age. All roughly 6 feet tall, lean build. Brown hair and eyes." Parsons began. He looked over his shoulder to see that Garcia had put the photos up on the widescreen monitor. "The first 4 shootings were fatalities. Dead shots. Victim number 5, Mr Anderson, would likely have also been a fatal shot if not for the unexpected interference."

"Never thought I'd be happy to have frat boys at a bar." Annie said not so under her breath.

"The shootings were all on Friday nights, during high traffic times at popular hangout areas. And after the first two shootings, the killings moved jurisdictional lines."

"Which brought the FBI into the case."

"Yes Ma'am." Parsons nodded. "We know from the ME reports that the original shootings were all from a location slightly above the victim creating a downward angle. The bullets indicate a military grade weapon. Our forensic analysts back played the trajectories to give us a region of locations where the shooter could have been but no fingerprints or shell casings were found. There were common footprints from a standard issue boot found at any surplus or hunting supply shop. No unique markers in the trend so we can't isolate a brand to narrow the search. The analysts were able to estimate that the shooter is definitely male, also approximately 6 feet tall with a slightly heavy build."

"And this tells us what?" Joan's voice was terse.

"We know" Hotch replied. "from the change in area, the removal of the casings and the apparent use of some kind of gloves that the killer knows about countermeasures. Either from law enforcement experience or simply from doing research. That he might have googled basic forensic techniques tells us that he's reasonably smart."

"He clearly has a particular victim type, which may represent an actual person from his past." Rossi added.

"Revenge by proxy?" Jai asked.

"In a manner of speaking." Reid nodded at him. "He might not have access to his desired target so he's attacking proxies. It's also possible that he doesn't yet feel confident in his ritual so he's practicing. And the best practice comes as close to the real thing as one can get."

"But he's shooting people in crowds." Annie said. "And not scattershot. He's picking someone and taking a kill shot. Wouldn't that take confidence."

"And skill." Emily added. "He is clearly someone with training. Either from devoted practice or some form of job training such as law enforcement or military."

"I've been going through records of gun shops, local law enforcement, and so on. Looking for anyone that could have access to the types of weapons and training. So far the list is too large to give us anything useful." Garcia said. "Even with the basic profile."

"This killer is detailed and methodical." Morgan said. "It's unlikely that the choice of locations, times or victim type is an accident. Even if it isn't one particular person hess after. With this type of person, it would not be uncommon for him to be so obsessed with his task that he will try to finish it."

"Finish it? You mean go after Auggie." Annie paled.

"Yes. Either at the hospital or afterwards when he returns home." Hotch nodded. "So he'll have to be placed in protective custody."

"With luck, not being able to finish this last shooting will throw him off his game and he'll screw up. Give us something to narrow our search."

"What if?" Joan began carefully. "What if you knew who the killer was. Or at least might be."

"If we had a name we could then analyze the particular person to determine the end game. And stop it." Hotch replied, equally careful. He suspected from the moment that Joan Campbell agreed to come to the BAU that she had information she wasn't giving up. Confronting her wouldn't work so it would have to be a careful game. And he was perhaps about to put her in check.

"You have a name?" Parson asked from the corner he had retreated to.

"We believe so." Joan nodded. "And if this name is correct then Auggie was the target all along."

"Which suggests, that this unsub killed 4 innocent people to avoid detection and possibly would have killed others after this to the same end. Smart and extremely sociopathic."

"Yes Dr Reid it is. Worse is that we may have trained this killer to do just this and never had a clue even with our evaluations and tests."

"Sociopaths are very good at hiding. Psychological chameleons of a sort. Also typically they are excellent natural profilers, which helps them to know just what face to present."

"Including it seems a dead face."


	17. Chapter 17

"Jai." Joan nodded to her agent.

Jai pulled a laptop out of his bag. "If I may?" He directed the question to Garcia who passed him the display adapter from her laptop. In a moment a photo appeared on main display.

"This is, or rather we thought was, Maxwell Keegan." Joan started. "Keegan was a Special Ops agent who was part of a team in Iraq two and a half years ago. The team was part of an operation to monitor and record communications in the area."

"That operation is when Auggie Anderson was blinded." Emily added.

"Yes, Agent Prentiss it was." Joan confirmed. "Auggie, Keegan and two other team members were crossing the desert when they stumbled onto a bomb, which exploded blinding Auggie and killing the rest of the team.

Or so we thought."

"You believe this Keegan is alive." Parsons asked from his corner.

"Yes. Auggie says that Keegan had a particular smell. Very distinct. As was Auggie's reaction to that smell."

"It made him want to barf." Annie said bluntly.

"A reaction he had at the scene. He didn't put it together until Dr Reid asked him to review the events at the bar and he realized just what he was smelling."

"Interesting." Rossi said. "So you believe what? This Keegan planted the bomb himself. Faked his death."

"Yes. Keegan's record shows he was intelligent and egotistical. He was military, Army Ranger division. But not highly ranked. According to evaluations, he was rejected for promotion to a leadership position due to feelings that he wasn't appropriate for such a position. Psychologically."

"He was a loose cannon." Hotch nodded.

"Apparently. Or at least that was the concern."

"Keegan may have felt he was being held back, not acknowledged for his intelligence or skill and decided to sell out." Jai said. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"But how could you not know that he wasn't dead. If they found Auggie then they had to have retrieved the bodies of the rest of the team. If only to prevent the Iraqis from finding them and wondering how and why they were there." Emily knew she was stating the obvious but they needed the answer.

"There were three bodies. One of which matched the records for Maxwell Keegan."

"Matched the records?"

"Fingerprints, dentals, tattoos. Everything was a perfect match."

"Which means either Auggie is wrong about what he smelled, it was coincidence or"

"Keegan somehow changed his records to match his patsy." Jai nodded. "According to Auggie, Keegan was constantly bragging about his sexual conquests. Mostly the number. Our theory is that Keegan may have targeted someone who had the access he needed. Someone who may not even know that he or she was being used. Could even be the source of the body."

"Fits the profile." Hotch confirmed. "To someone like this, anything is appropriate. Collateral damage means nothing."

"Sounds like my father's idea of a perfect Black Ops agent." Jai whispered to Annie.

"So." Annie jumped in, "This guy has figured out that he didn't finish the job and is crazy enough to do it at any cost. Which means until he's found, Auggie has a giant target on his back."

"Unfortunately." Rossi said. "We'll arrange to have Mr Anderson transferred to a safe house"

"We have that covered." Joan cut in.

"Begging your pardon." Hotch interrupted. "But if this Keegan found a way into military records he could have also found a way into CIA records. Which means your safe house might not be that safe."

"And your systems are that secure?" Joan accused.

"I'll beg your pardon." Garcia rose up out of her seat.

"On the contrary, we are well aware that he could also have access to our systems, which is why we'll be using a location that isn't and won't be recorded in any systems. No one on duty will have any information about who they are protecting and no one outside of this room will know the location."

"I insist on thoroughly vetting anyone who access to my agent." Joan said firmly.

"Of course. We would have the same insistence if it was one or our own."

"Then we have a deal?"

"We do."


	18. Chapter 18

"Checkmate."

"Very impressive."

"I just hope you weren't taking it easy on me because I'm blind."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good." Auggie laughed. "Although Chess really isn't my best game, or my favorite.

"Lately it isn't my favorite either. No one on the team is really that good so it's too easy to win. We play a lot of cards."

"I bet you still win."

"Not always, sometimes I throw a game or two. But only when it's JJ or Emily. Morgan's just too much fun to take down."

"That's awful."

"He can handle it. He used to mess with me all the time especially my first couple of years. So I mess with him when I can."

"Sounds like me and my brothers."

"So what is your favorite game?"

"Wei Qi. It's this game from ancient China. Confucius even wrote about it. Warlords would play it to test their potential generals skills at strategy, generals would test their cap-"

Auggie stopped short and grinned. "And you probably know all about it being the walking trivia encyclopedia."

"Who told you that?"

"Emily. She said sometimes you get so into something that you run off like a train and just to tell you to stop."

"Not as much as I used to, but yeah." Reid laughed. "It can come in handy sometimes."

Auggie yawned. "Thanks for hanging out with me but I think its time to crash."

"Next shift should be here soon." Reid nodded to himself. "I could come back tomorrow, for a rematch. Bring you a fresh supply of music."

"I'm good with my Mingus. But perhaps you could find me a copy of Snow Crash on audiobook."

"Neal Stephenson?"

"That's the one. I haven't read it in a while."

"No problem. Are you good here?"

"Yeah. I had everything figured out after the first couple of days. But thanks for asking."

"Good night then."

Reid found a pot of fresh coffee waiting in the kitchen. He poured himself a cup, adding a not so healthy amount of sugar.

"Hey Doc." The voice made him jump.

"Agent Parsons."

"How's our friend?"

"Good. Bored."

"Yeah, being cramped up inside, even in such a nice house as the Ambassador's, can't be fun."

"I thought Morgan was coming with the night shift."

"He's outside checking the perimeter. One of the guys was sick, food poisoning from some bad sushi. There wasn't time for Campbell to vet anyone else from the Bureau so I came."

"Any movement on finding Keegan?"

"Nothing so far. The guy really did a number on the records. Your Agent Garcia seems on the verge of tearing her hair out."

"Sounds about right. She hates when she can't find the information she wants."

"Everything seems locked up tight." Morgan entered from the back hallway. "You shouldn't be drinking that so late."

Reid looked the untouched cup in his hand. "I'm fine."

Morgan took the cup from him. "It's after 11, Reid. Go crash. We'll be fine here with our CIA troops outside."

"Morgan."

"Reid. I mean it. Go sleep. Dream of statistical probabilities or some other weird math magic that will tell us how to find this guy so we can all go home."

Reid stared him down for a long moment. "Okay. Fine." He shook his head as he left the room. He would never admit it to Morgan but he actually was tired. And who knew, perhaps his subconscious would think of something that would break the case. Stranger things had happened.


	19. Chapter 19

"And I thought surveillance was boring." Agent Parsons laughed.

"I should take a walk around the gates. Check in with the CIA guys." Morgan started to stand.

"Let me do it. I am dying for a smoke."

"Sure, okay." Morgan yawned.

"I'll start another pot of coffee on my way out."

Parsons stopped in the doorway watching Morgan drop to the floor to do some rapid pushups to try to wake himself back up. He had been patiently waiting for just the right moment.

He quickly refilled the coffee maker and started it brewing. As the carafe started to fill, Parsons reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of sleeping pills. He crushed several and dumped them into the coffee.

"Forgot my gun." Parsons said as he re-entered the den. He grabbed the firearm and slid the holster on his belt. "Coffee should be ready in a minute. I'll be back in about ten."

Morgan nodded from his spot on the floor where he had traded sit ups for the push ups. He knew he should wake up Reid and get some sleep himself but the kid was known for having insomnia and Morgan wanted to give him a couple more hours if possible.

Parsons could hear the other agent entering the kitchen as he finished his cigarette. He lightly tapped the window and signaled to Morgan that he was leaving to take his walk. Morgan nodded back as he took a swig from his cup.

Parsons quietly walked through the checkpoints, notifying the guards that everything was fine at the house. Lucky for him, they never actually left the perimeter. By the time they knew anything was wrong, it would be too late.


	20. Chapter 20

Auggie jerked awake. He had been dreaming about Iraqi again. Every night for the three weeks he'd been 'in custody' at the Prentiss summer home, he had dreamt of that day. Or the night he had been shot. Or both. It was starting to get really annoying. As was not being allowed to have a cell phone or a computer. Annie and Jai came when they could as did the FBI agents but he was really getting bored with the whole thing. He almost wanted to suggest they take him home. Keegan would try to come after him and they could catch him in the act. The guy apparently had a thing for chest shots so he'd just wear body armor under his clothes at all times.

Course he knew Joan would never go for that idea. She had been pretty clear about her feelings when this whole safe house idea was presented to him. And Auggie knew better than to mess with Joan.

Auggie felt his way into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He retrieved the bottle of pain killers from the medicine cabinet and swallowed one dry. Walking back into room, he noticed right away how hot it felt. He could never sleep when he was hot. Being that there were no fans in the room, he decided to open one of the windows to let in some air. Most safe houses have alarm systems but this wasn't a standard safe house and as it happened, Emily's mother hadn't bothered to have one installed. He remembered Emily mentioning that when the house was suggested. No one was worried since they put up flood lights everywhere and a dozen trained ops soldiers were patrolling the yard.

The cool night air feel great. Auggie pulled a chair closer to the window and slipped on his headphones. A little jazz was just what he needed.

He was starting to doze off when a breeze drifted into the room. His eyes snapped open as he picked up the familiar scent of cloves. It was possibly just a coincidence, but Auggie wasn't taking any chances. If Keegan had found them and made it onto the grounds then he wasn't likely to stop until he found a way into the house and found his target.

Auggie slipped out of the room and down the hall. He knew that the agents used the bedroom by the staircase to take turns sleeping. Entering the room, he found the bed empty. He couldn't smell blood so he guessed that they were all downstairs. He could have yelled for them but he didn't want to alert Keegan. His mind raced as he tried to figure out how Keegan found them and got to the house. The only possibility that Auggie could come up with was that Keegan had left a back door into the CIA systems. Perhaps he had been using it to gather secrets to sell for months. Ironically they were in the process of a complete overhaul of the system after Natasha's stunt and Auggie probably would have find the hole. Then again, maybe that was why Keegan started this whole thing. Perhaps it wasn't an obsessive need to finish what he had started. Or hell, perhaps it was both.

Access to the system could have led him to Annie or Jai maybe, he could have followed them. Found out their personal cell phone numbers and put a tracer on them. Or maybe even used that hole to get into the FBI systems to look for agents on unusual assignments and tracked one of them. The possibilities were endless.

Auggie carefully slid down the stairs. It wasn't graceful but he couldn't risk stumbling and alerting anyone that someone was moving around. Made it to the bottom and could hear something coming from the room off the kitchen. Auggie's heart raced as he realized it was a fight. Keegan was definitely in the house.

One hand on the wall, Auggie quickly slid toward the kitchen. He knew there was a door to the outside from a back hallway. If he could get there, he could make a run for it across the yard. Keegan wasn't likely to use a gun because it would alert the Ops team. His best guess was that Keegan had slipped in disguised as a team member and then broken from his post to come get him. He could slip right back out afterwards, leave when the new guards came in the morning and no one would have a clue until the FBI agents didn't come check in. At least that's what Auggie would have done if he was Keegan.

Auggie's foot bumped something as he entered the room. Crouching down, he realized it was a person. From the slender build and the faint scent of mint shampoo, he guessed it was Reid. He didn't smell any blood and could feel a pulse so he guessed that Keegan knocked him out, probably intending to neutralize the rest of the agents, take care of Reid and then come for his target. Auggie didn't feel a gun on Reid's belt. He would have felt better with a weapon. Then he recalled Reid using a knife to slice them some tomatoes for the sandwiches they ate for dinner. He had rinsed it off and set it in the sink saying he'd put it in the dishwasher later. Auggie quickly stepped over to the sink but it was empty. Reaching down, he found the dishwasher. Opening it, he quickly located the knife. It was small but sharp. He felt better having it in his hand. He slipped it into the sling to keep his hand free.

Behind him, the sounds of the fight grew louder. There was a crash like someone hitting a glass cabinet or table with enough force to shatter it. Auggie knew he should just make his run for it. But his feet wouldn't move. It wasn't in his nature to just leave someone to be killed. He slipped over to the doorway, hiding behind the wall, and tried to focus on the sounds, tried to make out who was fighting and if possible who was winning. If it was someone he knew, he'd run for help. If not, well he'd figure that out once he knew.

Without warning, the pair of bodies landed in the doorway next to his hiding spot. From the sound, the victor was rather successfully choking his victim while at the same time smashing someone's head into the floor. Instinct, and a near gagging stench of cloves, told him that Keegan was the one closest to him. He said a quick prayer that he was right and tossed himself on the man.

He was rewarded by being tossed to the ground. He could hear Keegan closing in fast and rolled himself to his feet. He sensed an arm swinging at him and batted it out of the way. He slammed himself forward, giving Keegan a sharp head butt to the face. Keegan managed to return the hit with a punch of his own, knocking the wind out of Auggie before sweeping him off his feet. Despite a surge of mind numbing pain, Auggie managed to reach into the sling for the knife. He heard a shot go off at the same time that he shoved the knife upwards into Keegan's gut.

And then for the second time, everything went black. Figuratively speaking.


	21. Chapter 21

"He's not talking, but the best guess is that sometime after Keegan faked his death he discovered that you were in fact still alive."

"He could have left a back door open even after he got the records switched. Saw a mention of my name still being active."

"Seems strange that he would take the risk to come after you."

"Not that strange. We had a mission that involved a very skilled hacker a few months back. She never went after the CIA systems but paranoia is something we do well. So the decision was made to thoroughly check the system. We could have found the back door and figured out who was behind it. Keegan's gambit depended on his having access. At least that's my theory."

"The other one being that he just needed to set everything up. Get access to the police, the Bureau. Find an agent that was moving to DC and kill the poor guy, take his place."

"Yeah, that one works too but that level of crazy just freaks me out a bit." Auggie chuckled. "Okay, feel the way the ground changes right here."

"It feels like ridges." Emily said.

"It is. They put these safety ridges in the flooring so the less than fully sighted know where to walk so they don't step in between cars."

"How long did it take you to learn all this?"

"Learn it, about two weeks. Actually feel okay doing it on my own, more like a couple of months. I had a vocational therapist with me. After the first month of coaching me through it he would follow me but say nothing. Every couple of days he would get further and further apart. Until one day, well I'm pretty sure he wasn't there at all. But I was okay. I made it on my own. Course I manage to get a lot of rides now so I don't use the trains too much but sometimes I like going on my own. Just to remind myself that I can."

"So what happens now?"

"A train comes and we go to the park and listen to a concert."

"I mean with us. I can't imagine the Agency is too keen on you associating with an FBI agent."

"Generally no, they don't like us mingling outside of the family. But Joan's giving this some latitude. I think she feels it's the least she can do since you and your team helped to keep me alive. Speaking of your team, how's Morgan?"

"He's back on duty. And not real happy to know that he got saved by a blind guy. I think it freaked him out a bit."

"Good thing he's more of a Hugo guy." Auggie laughed. "Ah, from the sounds of it, our chariot is approaching. You know you can take off the blindfold if you want."

"Nope, I said I wanted to spend a day in your shoes and I'm sticking to it." Emily replied. "Besides there are some fun uses for a blindfold."

"Oh, do tell."

"Mingus first, then I'll show you."


End file.
